Harry Potter and the Malfoy Git
by wonkasmistake
Summary: Harry should have seen the signs; although they might have been subtle, they were still there. In which Harry forgets his wand at a rather inconvenient area and stumbles upon a startling revelation that may have large consequences. Draco/Theodore, future Draco/Harry Drarry
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Dear Lord, I'm trying my hand at Harry Potter. Somebody stop me. As for the AU, I didn't make it too difficult to follow along with, I should hope. Lucius Malfoy was not caught at the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort is not using the Malfoy manor as a base.**

**If I owned anything, I wouldn't have to bid for a pair of Converse on eBay.**

* * *

A Most Intriguing Development

_Perhaps the signs had always been there, but Harry was simply too blind to see them._

_Granted, it wasn't as though the brunet had taken up the habit of actively watching his school rival parade about, and he didn't often find himself on the listening end of idle gossip._

_However, he felt that he should have at least noticed to some minor degree._

War left a bitter sense in Hogwarts, even if the Ministry refused to acknowledge that there was one. Perhaps the younger years didn't feel it, which was just; they deserved to enjoy the peaceful oblivion that the Ministry forcefully insisted upon. It was the higher years that felt the real stress of looming fate. They would have to choose sides soon. Some of them would fight each other, some of them would hide, and some of them would die. Tensions were high in the classrooms with no way to release it. Everybody seemed to be stuck in their own heads, so much that even the professors were unsettled with the amount of quiet and distracted students they faced on a daily basis for hours at a time.

The breaking point had been when Ronald Weasley had run straight into Draco Malfoy between classes, sending books, quills, inks, and bags flying from both parties. Ron had turned pink in anger, Malfoy had narrowed his eyes and scowled, but there had been no verbal exchange. Each boy merely picked up his rightful things and stored the items away. As Malfoy handed Ron a quill he had mistakenly picked up, Harry Potter simply couldn't handle it any longer. He was slapped with the bizarre reality of the situation.

"Why don't you watch where you're going, Malfoy?" he said before he could stop his mouth.

The band of Slytherins who had patiently waited for Malfoy to finish gathering his things, Zabini and Goyle going so far as to pick up a loose scroll of parchment or ink well that had landed at their feet, immediately stiffened into a force. Harry could practically see them assembling into some sort of bizarre gang number any second now.

Theodore Nott, who Harry had never spoken to, stepped forward so that he was just hardly behind the risen form of Malfoy. "It was your lot who walked into him, Potter," the sad-eyed teenager spat.

Ron stood up as well, but his eyes flickered uncertainly between the form of his best friend and the form of the tall, skinny Slytherin. "I didn't mean to do it, for Merlin's sake."

"It's fine, Ron," suggested Hermione, resting a hand on his arm and another on Harry's. It was likely to prevent either of them from pulling out their wands and causing the situation to get any more dramatic than it already had. "You're sorry about it, so we know that it won't happen again. Now let's get to Charms." The situation was nearly placated.

"If you don't want it to occur again, be careful, not sorry," Zabini commented in a bored tone. He shoved the scroll he had picked up into Malfoy's hand and then grabbed the blond by the arm to lead him off. Malfoy had been oddly quiet, but while being pulled away, he could be plainly heard stage-whispering.

"Filthy scum's contaminated my new robes! You lot go on ahead, Theo'll come with me while I change."

Ron and Hermione didn't seem as bothered as they should have been. Harry didn't know what was wrong with him, but his heart throbbed painfully and his head felt squeezed and he shouted after the Slytherins. "Malfoy! Don't forget to start with your attitude!" It wasn't the best comeback, but it was enough to prompt that Goyle, Nott, Parkinson, and Malfoy turn to look back his way.

"Why don't you find your wand and sit on it, Potter?" Nott scoffed in response, and then they were gone before Harry could process that, let alone respond to it.

"Can you believe them?" Harry demanded of his friends. Hermione frowned and furrowed her eyebrows with concern, whereas Ron chose to avoid his gaze entirely. The brunet felt a stab of betrayal at that. He had defended Ron, and now his best mate refused to look him in the eye? He felt foolish. The mood among the trio was damp as they settled in for a Tuesday afternoon Charms lesson.

_Yes, the signs were all there. Although they were subtle, they were still there._

"Potter, you stupid tit, don't you dare add those salamander eyes!" A cold hand covered his and then shoved it against the table. "You can't just toss them in whenever you'd like, they go in one at a time with each stir. If you had added them all in at once, the potion would more likely have caused confusion than cured a headache." Harry glared at his very blond potions partner, not at all fond of the lecture he was being administered. So he had overlooked some detail, it wasn't worth practically berating him in front of the classroom.

"Excellent point, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin for failing to allow a fellow student to botch up yet another assignment as well as explaining the repercussions of his attempted idiocy." Snape's voice prevented Harry from telling Malfoy exactly where to shove his potions knowledge. There was the unmistakable sound of Parkinson and Bulstrode snickering just a table away.

"Only Malfoy could get points awarded for failing to do something," Seamus muttered to where Dean Thomas sat at the table behind him.

"What was that, Finnigan? I could have swore you just said something more stupid than typical." Heads turned at that, though it wasn't for the comment itself as much as the owner. Theodore Nott rarely spoke during classes, and when he did it was whispering to Malfoy or one of his cronies. The dark headed boy was too occupied with stirring and adding his own salamander eyes to notice that the majority of the class was staring at him. Even a few of the Slytherins regarded him with a questioning look. Nott and Seamus were paired together nearly every time that Snape assigned partners, and they had never had a spat before, even when Seamus had accidentally pushed Nott into a deaging potion and caused him to become ten for the day.

"Five points to Slytherin for Mr. Nott demonstrating the will to succeed even when he is saddled with dead weight," Snape announced, breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over most of the class. Harry quickly turned to look at his potion, and he was relieved to see that Malfoy had kept tabs on it. It had turned navy blue, which differed greatly from Lavender's pale blue one on the table in front of them. The Gryffindor considered Malfoy and Lavender and their respective gifts in potions. He thought that he would put his trust in Malfoy on this one.

"Bottle your potion and leave it on the front desk. Homework, ten inches on how patience in potions could make the difference between life or death. At least four examples. Dismissed." Nobody dared to groan while in the man's presence.

Malfoy glared at the brunet.

Harry stared in return.

Malfoy crossed his arms.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

Malfoy impatiently narrowed his eyes and looked at their potion.

Harry had a realization, and with it came a scowl. "Forbid you should ever have to vial up and walk twelve steps," he groused while doing exactly that. But Malfoy had left, followed by a tall form with dark hair.

_Maybe if he had heard the gossip first he could have pieced something together. Even a single whispered suggestion._

"Blaise, be a bird and switch ties with Theo," Malfoy said in an obvious caricature of somebody else's voice. It earned him a few titters from the others that sat in his circle. "Your tie is more flattering for his eyes than yours."

"I'm not switching ties unless Theodore learns how to share his sweets."

"Blaise, be a bird and go away."

"Draco, be a Malfoy and go play dress up elsewhere. Help the Gryffindors if you're desperate for an impossible mission." Zabini's voice was quite deep in pitch, and it carried an easy ten feet away despite what the Slytherins might have thought. Or it was quite possible, even likely, that they just didn't care. "Did you see what that dreadful Weasley bloke was wearing on his feet? Completely unforgivable for a pureblood, where is the pride?"

Parkinson stopped fiddling with her robes long enough to say, "Well, he's in Gryffindor and fancies a mudblood. As if the poverty wasn't low enough, I suppose he can't even invest in enough pride to overcome that!" Goyle and Crabbe laughed, but Nott remained quiet.

Ron's face nearly matched his hair at this point. He glared at the circle of Slytherins a few paces away. He hadn't wanted to sit so close to them, but Harry had been stubborn about sitting under the shade of his favorite tree while they waited for Neville and Dean to appear. The Slytherins had arranged themselves so that Greengrass, Malfoy, Nott, and Parkinson were seated on rocks while Zabini, Goyle, Crabbe, and another Slytherin girl that Harry didn't know sat on transfigured seats. They appeared to be enjoying the sun, though it was likely they were under cooling charms.

"Ron, just ignore them," Harry advised his friend. It wouldn't do to have the two of them against eight Slytherins. It was almost as though the Lord had heard his thoughts, because Crabbe, Greengrass, and the mystery girl left to leave behind only five. It still didn't give him any more urge to start something. "What are they worth anyway? Look, here comes Dean and Neville!" But Ron wasn't listening to him anyway, and the teenager hoped that his friends were prepared to act as backup if necessary.

"Oi! Why don't you lot come and say that to my face?"

Nott, who had leaned over to whisper something that must have been funny in Malfoy's ear, twitched as Ron's shout reached them. He, Goyle, and Zabini looked at the Gryffindors with contempt. Malfoy and Parkinson merely seemed disgusted with the redhead addressing them. "Mind your own conversation, Weasley," Nott said in response. "You weren't invited." Zabini smirked at the arrival of Dean and Neville.

"Ooh, we had best mind them, Theodore. They've just been reinforced."

"Longbottom as a reinforcement? More of a handicap if you ask me," Malfoy quipped to his group, and they all laughed something awful. "It's a true shame what Gryffindor does to purebloods, makes them quite pathetic when you think about it."

"Maybe it's a ritual, like the rites of passage," piped up Goyle, and Parkinson fell back against Draco's rock for support because of her laughter. It wasn't often that Goyle could shine in a wits department.

Neville seemed embarrassed, and Harry frowned at the sight of it. Dean typically chose to not get involved in verbal disputes, so he finally rolled to his feet and stepped up beside his best friend. "Laugh all you want, at least we're not a bunch of back-stabbing cowards."

If it bothered them, the teens exhibited no signs. In fact, they all seemed quite confused, but Ron was the one to ask the question. "Er- Harry, what's back-stabbing mean?" Harry's flush made the weather seem that much more miserable. He didn't know the wizard terminology for it, so he just dismissed Ron's question with a small wave of his hand.

"Muggle influence," Nott observed when it seemed that his friends were still pondering over Harry's statement. Zabini nodded with some agreement, and Malfoy scrunched his nose. Muggles were quite odd, fantasizing about driving knives through each other's backs. The boys all managed to reach a conclusion without speaking, and Parkinson was the one to voice it aloud. "Savages."

Dean and Neville were begging that Ron follow them off already. Harry stood quietly by, one eye on the Slytherins so that they didn't try anything funny. Ron didn't want to budge, but he picked up his sack and tossed it over a shoulder. He looked at his best friend with a frown, but he just couldn't help leaving without getting in the last dig. "Nott's looking awful comfy with muggle speech, huh? I wonder who he's been shagging." Dean laughed at the suggestion.

Ron didn't even have time to gauge the reactions of the Slytherins before he was blasted off of his feet and into Dean. The boys collided unpleasantly on the ground. Harry pointed his wand at the group, ignoring Ron's yelps about Dean hitting his head.

Malfoy was pointing back. The blond's face was pale in rage, grey eyes narrowed and challenging as they met Harry's green ones. "Teach your weasel some manners, Potter. He's completely uncouth, barbaric, and stupid. As though any **true **pureblood would soil themselves with filth."

Nott, Goyle, and Parkinson had their wands out as well. They were all standing now. Zabini pulled on Malfoy's arm. "Leave them alone, Draco. They're not worth a knut."

"Not worth my spit," Malfoy confirmed, and he slowly lowered his wand. "Come on, you lot, let's find somewhere else to sit. Obviously minding our own doesn't warrant any privacy from these pompous, self-adoring hogs." The blond linked arms with Nott and began to walk, dragging away the boy. Goyle followed behind them. Parkinson and Zabini were the last to go, simply waiting for Harry, Dean, Ron, and Neville to lower their wands before they hustled up to join their friends.

"Bunch of gits," Ron growled. "It's alright for them to insult others, but if I so much as imply something. And Nott should feel grateful, it's not as though he's getting any skirt in real life."

_Harry wished that he had been left in the dark._

"Harry!" The breathless voice was sudden and unexpected, as familiar as it was. The owner sat beside him and promptly smoothed out her blue skirt. "I hope you know that I've been searching everywhere for you. What are you doing here?" Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she took in the sight of one of her best friends sulking by himself on a sofa. It was completely out the way, tucked in a corner and rather isolated from the party.

"Nothing, Hermione. I just felt like getting away from it all." It was true. Harry had been overwhelmed by the vast amounts of people, and when the alcohol arrived, he was downright uncomfortable with such company. He had intentions of returning, though. "I'm going back right now. Coming?" He rose up and held his arm out for the girl, leading her back to where the upper years were enjoying a stress-relieving party.

It had originally been a Gryffindor and Ravenclaw event, but the word had spread to all four houses like wild fire. It had been the Slytherin sixth years who had offered a specific region of the dungeons and who supplied the heavier alcohol in generous amount. Malfoy's smug face had dampened Harry's mood, especially when the blond effortlessly took the first shot of the night. From what he had heard, Ravenclaw seventh years were the ones supplying firewhiskey, so he took care to have some of that rather than taste Slytherin liquor.

Before he knew it, he was sitting in a large circle with about half of the party, and they were playing a bizarre game.

The one chosen would have three options: either accept a question that must be answered honestly, accept a challenge that must be completed, and if all fails, then they would be made to kiss a random member of the group. Harry couldn't help but think that it all sounded like Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle, but when he mentioned it, Ron gave him a strange look. "What the bloody hell are those, muggle bands?"

It had started out innocently enough. Dean had to drink a mug in under a forty-five seconds. Parvati confessed to thinking Malfoy and Michael Corner were the most attractive in their year. Michael had to confess he'd never had his first kiss. Goyle was made to give Susan Bones a flower _he_ had to conjure. Harry wore a bra for the first time in his life (a frilly one, at that). Justin admitted that he had had a nightmare the year before about marrying Seamus for their child but finding out later that Seamus had lied about a pregnancy.

Then Malfoy refused to kiss Ron to the vast relief of both Slytherin and Gryffindor house alike. He had to spin the top in the middle of the circle.

It seemed to take forever for the toy to stop. When it did, it succeeded to fall over and activate the white beam of light that flashed on Blaise Zabini's robes. The Italian seemed surprised at this outcome. He glanced at where Nott and Malfoy sat together, eyes vaguely troubled and questioning, before crawling over to meet Malfoy in the middle of the circle. Justin pretended to vomit, but Ron looked genuinely nauseous as the two Slytherin teenagers grasped each other by tie and leaned in to seal their lips together. It nearly seemed orchestrated. Hermione giggled nervously, as did Lavender Brown. Neville made a choking noise.

The kiss lasted longer than what seemed comfortable. Malfoy eventually pulled away and glared at Justin. "Have you had your fill yet or not?" He snapped.

"Wh- Was I supposed to tell you when to stop?" Justin stumbled to answer, and Malfoy seethed at him while settling back between Greengrass and Nott.

"No, I simply adore snogging my roommates. What do you think?" The blond was very pink in the face. He didn't look at Nott as the dark haired boy stared at him, instead selecting Hannah Abbot to punch Justin in the face. She ended up having to spin and kiss Seamus. The game resumed.

**. . . .**

"Harry? Harry, are you okay?" He groaned, swatting weakly at Hermione's hands. "Harry, we're going back to the tower now! Come on."

"Just leave him, 'Mione," said the groggy voice of Seamus Finnigan. "We'll take him, right, Dean?" The black boy released a familiar hum. He didn't know what happened next, but Hermione must have really left because it was just Seamus and Dean who roused Harry next. The Gryffindors began their long trek toward the tower, and Harry woke up a bit to listen to Seamus talk about the dares and truths that had him reeling. They were on the second story staircase when Harry swore.

"I left my wand in my robes!" he said, pausing behind Dean. The two startled boys looked back at him. "I'm going to go back and get it, alright? Go on ahead. I know my way back." There was hesitation on Dean's face; however, Seamus just grinned and waved his arm for the other male to go on.

"We'll see you soon, Harry! Come on, Dean."

The dungeons were ridiculously cold. Harry swore again as he retraced his route toward the party room, heading away from the Slytherin common room and into the west. The direction charm was still up so that he couldn't get lost. Following the lavender traced route led him into a large room with several chairs and his isolated sofa from beforehand. He could see his robes bunched up on it where he had left them. _How could I have been so careless?_ wondered the brunet, picking up his robes to shake out. His wand clattered to the ground and rolled off toward where the main party had been just hours before. Harry followed it with a small groan.

However, he froze when another groan responded.

_It should have been illegal to find out such a way._

Harry approached the room with caution. It was probably just a snogging couple, but he didn't want to startle them. He just wanted his wand. Prepared to just grab the stick and bolt, the Gryffindor entered the room and then promptly froze as though hexed.

Theodore Nott lay on his back, elegant robes completely shoved to the side and his tie loose. The boy's dark hair fluffed around his face in a way that Harry never saw him sport during class. Then again, his hair tended to not have fingers running through it during class. The fingers were pale, very pale, and long. They led to the ivory form of Harry's school rival, Draco Malfoy, whose own robes were gone along with his tie and first button of his dress shirt. Worse of all, Malfoy was straddling the thin form of Nott and leaning down so close that they could kiss. It almost seemed that they were.

But that was preposterous! Malfoys don't kiss Notts, and pureblood Slytherin boys don't kiss each other, an-

Nott released one of those groans that Harry had heard before, and suddenly he shuddered. Nott and Malfoy were snogging a mere few feet away from him. They seemed awfully into it, too, if Nott's hands on Malfoy's bottom said anything, or if Malfoy's frantic mussing of Nott's hair had an opinion. "Gods, Theo," the blond whispered, and he was _panting_ for Merlin's sake, panting as though he had just finished sprinting a few laps around the Quidditch pitch. "I'm beginning to wonder who you really fancy. I'm your lover, not a cake with your favorite custard!" And it sounded so damned _affectionate._

Harry didn't know how to feel. He knew that his wand was just a few inches from his foot, but he couldn't look away from the display in front of him.

"You kissed Blaise," stated the solemn voice that he didn't know well at all. "And that was quite the kiss, I always knew that he had his eye on you. But you're mine, Draco Malfoy." Suddenly, Nott sounded very possessive. Malfoy whimpered as his arse was squeezed, but it sounded so **lewd**. Harry felt his body give the sound a very confusing reaction. "You're mine, and I have to clean his taste from you."

Harry broke. He snatched his wand up and ran away as quickly as he could, disregarding the thunderous noise of his footsteps. All he could hear was the thundering in his chest, completely enveloping him in his shock.

**. . . .**

Theodore Nott looked like a rabbit.

Harry lay awake in bed, forced sober by the troubling revelations that spotting Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott snogging resulted in. Nott did look like a rabbit to him; he always seemed so jumpy and fidgety, and his anxious eyes were very dark. The shadows under them may have given off that impression now that he considered it. And his front teeth were rather large, which Harry had noticed because Nott often left his mouth open just centimetres, and maybe it was because he actually needed the extra room. All in all, he wasn't ugly. He had a strong jaw.

But to see him with _Malfoy._ Harry wondered if he should be surprised that the blond boy was bent. He always did act a bit like a ponce, with his hair all in order and his attire groomed to perfection. The Gryffindor had always assumed it was because he was a pureblood, but perhaps not.. Was Zabini a poof, too? Crabbe, Goyle? He didn't have any concrete proof about Crabbe or Goyle, but Zabini had seemed awfully comfortable with that kiss.

Harry squeezed his pillow over his face and wished that it would suffocate him.

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**Yes, this took place of me working on Body Swappin, Yo. I apologize for the wait, but rejoice over the update, my fellow Homestuck trash!**

**This may become a Drarry fanfic, but I've yet to decide on that. Also, because this fic is in Harry Potter's viewpoint, there are quite a few things that may not make sense now or later. I suppose I'm in aim for a stream-of-consciousness? Review any suggestions or opinions, please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters related. Also, I apologise for the wait. I was actually supposed to post this last night, but I ended up being lulled to sleep by Markiplier's hysteria-tinged voice.**

**This will become a Drarry story, though we'll see if it stays as that!**

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Harry didn't want to kiss Draco Malfoy.

The party wasn't as dramatic as the week before's had been, though it wasn't serene, either. There was still drinking, this time in moderation because of the regret of last week's choices for many people. Ron had been green all morning the day after, and Seamus had refused to leave bed. Harry hadn't seen Neville even come in, but apparently the boy had opted to spend the night in the Hufflepuff chambers. He distinctly refused to think too much on the fact that he hadn't see Malfoy or Nott at breakfast. It seemed that he missed most of the upper year students.

But now, a week later, they were playing that horrible challenge and confession game again. Ron confessed to having of fancied a Slytherin girl during his first few weeks at Hogwarts, though his non-subtle glances at pretty Daphne Greengrass left very little to be wondered. Neville was sent to hex Zabini, who wasn't playing this week because he was lingering with Nott, Malfoy, Crabbe, and several Ravenclaws over by the food area. Needless to say that the Gryffindor boy returned with a face of acne, hair down to his shoulders, and embarrassingly bucked teeth in response for his meager sting hex.

Hannah Abbot was kind enough to cancel the consequences so that the game could continue.

Justin admitted that he thought Padma was slightly prettier than Parvati, but the latter owned a better personality. He refused to answer who he would rather date, pointing out that he only had to answer one question.

Dean had to go and make Nott startle. The black boy thought carefully about it before deciding that he would exhibit his courage the same as Neville, and he approached the group with his wand hidden and pretended to be merely interested in another bottle of firewhiskey. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws ignored him for the most part, though Malfoy did spare him a suspicious glance. Dean looked back at the group of players, then seemed to reconsider his options for a brief moment as he began to walk to his seat again. However, something seemed to make him stick on course, because the boy whipped around and shot a firecracker jinx at Nott's feet. The startled Slytherin boy dropped his beverage glass.

Little shards flew everywhere, but nobody paid them mind as Nott stumbled back with one of the most comically horrified look any of the teens had ever seen. His already large eyes grew even wider with alarm, and his mouth opened into a circle as though in a silent cry. Some laughter from the group rang out, Harry's included for reasons he wasn't particularly aware of. He'd been feeling odd about Nott since the week before. It was strange to see him acting so.. human, especially after seeing him snog Malfoy like there was no tomorrow. He was just beginning to convince himself that it was all a strange dream.

He was so close until Malfoy shoved Dean up against the wall and jabbed a wand at his throat.

"I'm going to kill you," the blond seethed. "What's your poison, Thomas, got a bit of a fancy on bothering Slytherins? I'd gouge out your ugly eyes right now if there weren't so many witnesses, but I'm still considering whether or not to make your body completely infertile so your little bastards can't plague..." Harry cringed as Ron and Seamus hurried to the aid of their roommate and, in the Irish boy's case, best friend. Zabini held his wand out as well in defense of the situation quickly arising; Nott's wand was occupied covering Malfoy's back in case anybody was foolish enough to shoot.

"Draco, stop it," hissed the brunet boy, although his efforts were in vain as it could be heard all around the room. "Mudblood isn't worth our time, and I'm feeling generous. I think I'll just.." A complicated sort of wand gesture made Dean's face darken and his eyes widen. "Teach him a lesson about mucking my nice robes."

There was a hesitation, but Malfoy released Dean and promptly slid his wand away. It seemed apparent that not even he knew what Nott had cursed Dean with. "Very well. We'll allow it this time just for friend's sake." He seemed to still want to deal with the boy, but maybe it was the fact that most of the room looked tense enough to jump in should the moment escalate any longer that convinced him his message had been heard. Malfoy stepped back and returned to standing with Nott, Crabbe, Zabini, and two of the Ravenclaws who hadn't left when the situation arose.

"Well, that was bloody wonderful," said the black boy. He had refused to answer Hermione's questions as to what Nott's little hex had done to him, instead opting to settle next to Seamus and grump.

"You showed them that Gryffindor courage," Harry teased his roommate, nudging the boy's shoulder with his own and earning a scowl.

"Yeah? Confession or challenge, Harry?"

"Erm- I'll take a confession this time."

"Where's _your_ Gryffindor courage?" Dean taunted, pushing gently at his friend's shoulder. Harry didn't want to know what he had in mind for a challenge, but Ron was practically bursting with laughter at his side.

"Fine, I'll take a challenge. But I'm not happy about it."

"Go survive giving Malfoy a little pet to the arse."

Harry's mouth dropped open with horror.

"That's not fair!" Hermione was swift to counter on his behalf. Harry felt relief course through him; surely his best friend could assist him in this case. She was brilliant, after all. "You and Neville have already agitated them, and it would be suicidal, not to mention _stupid_, for Harry to go and do- well, that. Especially to Malfoy." She crossed her arms over her chest, appearing rather flustered.

Hermione's outcry caused objection, with Lavender stating that it was a challenge, and Harry would have to spin if he didn't complete it. Susan, Ernie, Justin, Seamus, Dean, Cho, and even Greengrass agreed to the rules of the game being followed. Goyle seemed pained at having to choose between forcing Harry to complete the game correctly or to see his best friend being harassed. Ron looked close to choking on his own tongue, stuck in a similar position about his own best friend being delightfully humiliated but possibly hurt.

Finally, Harry refused to do the challenge. "Better a coward Gryffindor than a dead one," he said with a small glare toward Dean. He then crawled forward and spun the purple toy top. The dazzling colors made a nice show, like always, but all too soon it was slowing down and teasing the teenagers sat around it. Who would Harry be made to kiss? He felt apprehension growing, hoping against hope that the ending result would be on Cho, or even Hermione as weird as that would feel to do. At least she was familiar.

The top stopped.

The light shone on dark robes, making the nearly-black wear lighten into revealing it's attractive blue tone. Harry felt his stomach flip, and his face twisted one of abject horror before he could stop it.

Draco Malfoy's dark robes were in the path of light exerted from the top.

The blond himself was oblivious to the light on his robes, at least until Michael Corner interrupted Zabini's moving mouth by pointing at the many faces staring at their group. Malfoy and Nott turned around together and glared at the game players. Harry couldn't help but notice that they were standing very close to each other. "What are you lot plotting now?" the bucktoothed Slytherin demanded after a few moments of stunned silence.

"I'm not kissing Malfoy," Harry said with conviction. "I'll spin again."

"The rule is that spinning is your last option," Pavarti quickly said. "You can't spin again, otherwise it wouldn't be worth having an option."

"But it's Malfoy!" Ron was quick to argue, just as Malfoy paled in realization. "There has to be some rule against kissing corpse-pale little ferrets!"

"I'm not kissing Potter!" Malfoy bared his teeth, which seemed like quite an unMalfoy thing to do. "I'm not even playing the game, I can't be held responsible for Potter's poor quality toy spins."

"You don't have to kiss him," Greengrass cut in against her year mate. "He has to kiss you. It can't be any worse than Harper, can it?" The fifth year in question blushed horribly, but Harry was too upset to study into it.

"He's not playing," the Gryffindor echoed weakly. Even Hermione looked like she couldn't help him this time. He looked desperately to Ron, but the redhead was busy staring at Harper's weird coloring. His stomach churned as he realized that he was fighting against a losing battle. "Bloody hell," Harry muttered to himself. Slowly gathering to his feet, the teenager approached where his school rival stood and hesitated just before him.

Malfoy's fair face wasn't as flawless as he had originally thought; he had a freckle beneath his left eye. The grey eyes that caught his green ones made him nervous all over again. Would the Slytherin hex him? Would Nott hex him if Malfoy didn't? Deciding to take his chances that Ron would have his back if the darker haired teen tried anything, Harry leaned in to meet Malfoy's lips-

But what he received was a harsh pain against his cheek. Malfoy's shallow breathing echoed in his ears. Harry cupped his stinging cheek and looked at the grey eyes again, noting this time the rage that flamed in them. "Where do you get off?" the blond demanded. "I said no. Go snog Finnigan if you're that inclined toward the market of a desperate same sex orientated chap." Malfoy was beyond angry, but so was Harry now.

"Don't drag Seamus into this to cover up your own insecurities," he flamed in return. "I think we all know that Nott is the only bloke you want to snog, except maybe Zabini, but it's just a bloody game. Sickly little git." It wasn't the right thing to say at all. Malfoy's eyes widened the moment he was halfway through his second sentence, and this time it was a hex that caught Potter.

Except Nott was the one to hex him. "Keep your filthy halfblood mouth shut," the brunet spat. His quiet voice was scratchy due to all of the use it had been given lately. Grabbing Malfoy by one arm and Crabbe by the other, Nott led them out of the room and into the dungeons. Zabini, Parkinson, Goyle, and that foreign Slytherin girl from before followed after them.

It took Hannah Abbot several minutes and many attempts to reappearify Harry's missing mouth.

* * *

They were almost regal in a way. Nott's dark locks framed his face like feathers, though they didn't draw too much attention from his hauntingly hollow cheeks as much as emphasize the structure. Such dark eyes did make him appear a bit miserable and brooding. The smudges beneath them seemed to attest to that. He was taller and very skinny; Harry wondered how the teen kept himself straight with those heavy robes that most of the pureblood Slytherins wore in their free time. He might have been a bit too lanky, but he wasn't ugly, not at all.

Malfoy's contrasting figure could have made them poetic. He was also taller than most boys their year, though he remained the shorter of the two just barely. His weight was slightly heavier, enough to keep him comfortably on a broom and to fill out beyond a stick. His impossibly light blond hair was only tamed to the point his eyesight was without interference. Grey eyes remained passive, and pointed chin drew his cheekbones into a haughty appearance. His porcelain hue looked like it would bruise at the slightest touch.

The two, one brunet with black robes traced with gold and green at the seams and the other blond with black robes that carried emerald design at the collar and sleeves, would link arms and attend to the Great Hall with matching strides. It could have been nothing had they been anything but Slytherin, or perhaps even girls who were always too affectionate with each other. However, because they were both pureblood Slytherin male heirs, Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy caught many an eye.

"Look at that!" Terry Boot breathed to Michael Corner, stopping his fellow Ravenclaw from running into the Patil twins in his stupor. "There's certainly something friendly between them, that's for sure!"

Michael eyed the Slytherins making their way to the far off table. "Friendly, that's the word. Or something more?"

Words had been flying since Harry's outburst, many speculating on the exact relationship between the two purebloods. Malfoy was rather defensive over Nott, and the efforts seemed to reach vice versa despite the fact that Nott had never made himself a spectacle in the years before. To see something so physically fond between them so soon brought those who didn't believe to suddenly doubt themselves, and those who did believe gathered more evidence for the case.

Malfoy was the first to sit, taking up room next to Daphne Greengrass and smoothing his robe over his bottom so that he didn't wrinkle the material while dining. Nott settled beside him and immediately retrieved himself a cup of tea along with a slice of toast. When Crabbe and Zabini arrived, the stares were less intense even though the glances were curious and often. Those who hadn't bore witness listened intently to the accounts of those who had. Nott and Malfoy, escorting each other to breakfast? Preposterous!

"I swear, they were bloody clutching at each other like they were going together!" Ron chattered to those around them and Seamus Finnigan nodded with a furious agreement. "I was right behind Boot and Corner, they even said themselves that it looked a bit funny! Slytherins-"

"Aren't permitted to enjoy a morning meal without hearing your exaggerated accounts so tactlessly hollered a mere few feet over?" drawled the sardonic voice of Zabini. The Italian wizard looked up from his Transfiguration book and cocked a single eyebrow toward the redhead, seeming as though he dared him to make another comment. Malfoy was uncharacteristically quiet during Ron's rant, though now he turned his attention away from scribbling on a parchment with Nott to instead meet the Gryffindor's eyes.

"You really should learn to stay out of other people's business, Weasley. As interesting as I'm certain you find me, I'd sooner be dead than share a floo with you." This comment earned more titters from the Slytherin table, and Pansy Parkinson arrived with Gregory Goyle just in time to hear it.

"Oh, are we discussing your love life, Draco?" she suggested, sitting across from Nott and blocking the silent boy from the sight of the Gryffindors. Goyle sat so that he could start in on breakfast. "Because as much as I do adore you, I won't accept you courting any Weasley beyond that dowdy one who left years ago."

Malfoy's mouth opened to offer his response, though before he could, Seamus broke in. It wouldn't be ridiculous to assume that the Slytherins had forgotten about the Gryffindors for all the care that they had given them after Parkinson arrived. "I don't think it be a Weasley he has his eye on!" This time it was the flustered Gryffindors who snickered. Nott still didn't seem to hear any of them, continuing to sip his morning tea as though he hadn't been the indirect target of Seamus' comment.

"And it certainly isn't an Irish crow, either. Now bugger off." Malfoy seemed more annoyed now that Parkinson's focus was on him, and he scooped a spoonful of eggs into his mouth before conversation could be started. Zabini, fortunately, began to speak to him about their latest Transfiguration reading material and projects. Their idle chatting buzzed off because Ron was whispering furiously to the boys across from him about the strange purebloods.

Harry just hoped that Malfoy and Nott would blow over by the end of the week.

* * *

Malfoy and Nott did not blow over by the end of the week.

The two had been a high point of discussion since the party, with a lot of speculation rooting from their common interactions with each other or the supposed sightings that some students claimed they saw. The most ridiculously false account was of a fourth year Hufflepuff walking in on Malfoy visiting Promfey about an unexpected pregnancy. Of course, nobody believed her except for desperate gossip saps.

The two didn't behave much differently than typical. Nott still spent his evenings reading in the Hogwarts library, occasionally joined by one of the Slytherin cronies if not Malfoy himself. Malfoy still sat in between Goyle and Zabini during Defence Against the Dark Arts, though he did work with Nott in Potions when they were permitted to select their own partners. They sat beside each other without fail during meals and took up the habit of escorting each other with linked arms whenever they were walking together. Malfoy shared his packages from home. Nott didn't mind sitting outside with Goyle and Crabbe while Malfoy practiced with the Slytherin Quidditch team.

However, nobody had exactly seen them do anything intimate. The linking of arms seemed to be all they were guilty of committing. Harry's mind felt heavier and heavier each time the subject came back up about them, because he was supposedly the only one who had seen more than platonic interaction between the pureblood heirs.

Harry looked at the two, noting that Malfoy's love life had taken a lot of tension away. How could there be tension when a questionable romance bloomed with two most interesting characters? There were already bets on what would happen when or if the relationship came to light. Would Malfoy be disowned? Would Nott be taken out of school by his elderly, somewhat barmy father? What would Voldemort say about it?

Most bothering, though, was that Malfoy hadn't said a word to Harry since the party. He didn't know if it was because he was angry about being outed to most of their yearmates or if the blond was too preoccupied with his sudden romance, but the brunet had enjoyed it at first. No biting comments when he was just trying to go about his school day, no confrontations in the corridors, no pranks during meals or free time. It had been enjoyable to be able to relax with his friends, though on occasion Ron would go on tangents about what he had heard about the two.

However, it didn't last too long before Harry became somewhat bored. He simply went to class, played Quidditch, chatted with his friends, and completed homework. There wasn't much challenge in his life with Voldemort seeming to be at a standstill. There was no news because nothing was being done. Harry resorted to even assisting Neville in the greenhouses despite his distaste for the subject of Herbology overall.

Finally, one Friday in the evening, Harry entered the fifth floor boy's lavatory to find Draco Malfoy just stumbling out of a stall. The blond looked to be cleaning his face and seemed upset about something. He thought briefly about leaving, but Malfoy didn't seem worth the trouble of finding another closet just because of his presence. Instead, Harry simply slipped over toward the urinals and set to handling his business. Malfoy ignored him as well, washing his pale hands and rinsing his mouth with water from the faucet.

Unfortunately, the blond didn't leave after that. He proceeded to powder his face slowly, much more slowly than necessary, and then simply stood at the sink. Harry felt uncomfortable. He was glad when he could tuck himself back in and move toward the far sinks, lathering his hands with soap to clean up. He nearly missed it when Malfoy began to speak.

"How did you know about Theodore and I?"

Harry startled briefly. Should he tell the truth? Malfoy still wasn't looking at him, instead opting to gaze at his image reflected in the mirror.

"Erm- I walked in on you two after the first party. I left my robes behind and went back to get them." Here he hesitated. "You were snogging something awful."

Malfoy laughed, ugly. It wasn't the laugh that Harry heard when Malfoy was being too loud with his friends. It wasn't a laugh he had heard anybody use at all.

"He wanted to go to the dorms, but I made him stay. I made us both stay for some privacy." Finally, grey eyes met his startled green ones. "So much for privacy." The blond turned to leave, but Harry wasn't ready for that to happen.

"I didn't mean to tell everybody. It just came out," he confessed, hoping that Malfoy would accept the apology even if it wasn't worded as one.

Malfoy didn't pause until he reached the door. "I'm sure you meant to tell everybody about our sordid little affair, Potter. And I don't care. Because of your ugly upbringing, you might think my preferences are unnatural. Let me assure you that I won't be tied to any stake just because of your disgusting thoughts toward half of the wizarding world. You muggle-washed heathens always think you know what's best for what you don't even know about." And then he left.

Harry was left completely shocked and confused. What was Malfoy talking about? He thought that he was homophobic and did it to embarrass him? The Gryffindor screwed his mouth up and left as well, though not nearly as dramatically as Malfoy had.

Trust a Malfoy to follow in the theatrics of Snape.

* * *

Ron was the best person to ask considering he was raised in the wizarding world, but Harry wasn't certain how his friend would take it. He shifted with discomfort for the fifth time in he six minutes he had joined his friends in the common room. Hermione looked up at him for the third time, eyes light and questioning. Surely she would be able to answer some of his lingering questions if he had any. Maybe it was best that he ask now so that he could focus on his Charms essay afterwards.

"Say, Ron?" Harry said to his friend.

The redhead looked up and cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, mate, what is it?"

"Erm, what's your views on homosexuality?"

Ron narrowed his eyes slightly, like Harry was a sudden culprit in a crime. "It's.. not bad? I mean, it's none of my business if a bloke's liking another bloke, or if a skirt wants to chase a skirt. Why do you ask?" The freckled boy's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you a homosexual, Harry?"

Harry choked at the question, meeting Hermione's sympathetic eyes with even more panic. "No! Erm! I'm just asking, because Malfoy made it sound like wizards don't really care about.. you know, orientation."

"When were you talking to Malfoy?" Ron's tone sounded even more suspicious now. "But no, we usually don't care if somebody is a homosexual or not. It's actually how we survived, you know. During the witch hunt time period, they killed about fifteen witches to every one wizard from what I heard." He said it so offhandedly, Hermione and Harry's faces of matched horror seemed to startle the redhead into continuing. "It might be exaggerated! Anyway, the hunts are most of the reason why we hide from muggles now."

"Wait, but what do the witch trials have to do with gay wizards?" Harry asked his friend. He didn't quite understand.

"Erm.. There weren't really any gay wizards. Hard to be gay when your auntie or daughter or sister or mum is being tied to a stake and burned to death."

Harry groaned at the miscommunication. Thankfully, Hermione was able to explain that the informal use of the word was matched with being homosexual, and Ron seemed fascinated that muggle slang thought the equivalency to being happy was to be a poof. Were they happier in the muggle world? He had heard different, but times changed all of the time.

"Well, since they were killing off so many witches, we almost died out. I think it was Orion Hempheste who invented the means of homosexual wizards being able to carry heirs, which probably saved our race. But Charlie and Percy probably know more about the subject than I do. They are kind of the brains of the family." With a glare down at his parchment, Ron seemed to be wishing that the smarts were more evenly distribute among siblings. "Anyway, I don't know much about it. Mum and Dad didn't want me to grow up hating muggles or anything. I get that they were pretty scared of what we could do."

Harry was so confused. Purebloods could carry? Did that mean that they were hermaphrodites?

"How interesting. In the muggle world, homosexuality is seen as unnatural, and even immoral, by some people. There has been a rise of pride lately in taking one's own sexuality, but it's a slow moving cause. While it may be more accepted now, it's still a bit taboo to identify as a homosexual." Hermione seemed intrigued in the ideas of witchcraft and how it could be applied to change anatomical science.

"Really? It's not seen too bad here, but there are a few people who look down on it because we have enough witches to sustain our race now. And with the fact that it's only purebloods, or very strong blooded halfbloods, who _can _carry babies, it's kind of frowned on in certain families than others. After all, what good's a wizard that can't reproduce when our population is already so small?" Ron seemed out of breath. He wasn't adapted to having to speak about purebloods so much unless he was scoffing about some out-dated tradition that some still followed to the date. He was still thinking about how odd muggles were with opposing their own kind just because of preferences.

Harry felt odd at the thought that purebloods, and apparently some halfbloods, could carry child. It was no wonder that Malfoy wasn't particularly concerned with his relationship status, then, considering that he could carry on the proud Malfoy lineage so long as his lover was a pureblooded bloke as well. And he knew that Nott was a pureblood just as much as Malfoy. As for the reason that they could carry.. He felt that it was a strong reason that so many pureblood families were repulsed by muggles and their 'barbaric' ways of life. He could just see Lucius Malfoy with a mini Draco on his knee, maybe an audience of tiny Slytherins gathered around to hear the horrific tales of their kind being drowned or burned or tortured in other terrifying mannerisms until they were dead.

Maybe the Malfoy line had survived because of a homosexual ancestor.

Although it apparently didn't seem to be a big deal, why did Harry still feel like he had let loose something very personal about Malfoy to the whole school?

* * *

**Author's Note: Ugh, I'm so angry that I had to retype half of this chapter because I accidentally refreshed the tab without saving my work. Please excuse the possible rushed ending, I really have to sleep in the next nine minutes.**

**As for the next chapter, I imagine that we'll finally be able to reach a basis for future Drarry to occur. I might also dwelve into the reactions of Theo's father and Draco's family's reactions as to their relationship. Whatever you guys want? Feel free to drop a review with any criticism or suggestion.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I do not own the characters, ideas, or world of Harry Potter. I merely play with J.K. Rowling's creations.  
This chapter is somewhat late, though my goal is to update at least once per week and twice if I find the time.**

**Trigger warning(s): Pedophilia (mild, not graphic, just spoken)**

* * *

The topic of the relationship between Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott died down substantially by December.

Of course, there was plenty of talk of the boys still mucking the corridors, and eyes followed the boys when they were together during meals or during the day. Sometimes a student or so would find themselves on the receiving end of a wand for making smart comments. Nott picked up the habit of glaring like a Malfoy whenever somebody stared at him for too long of a time. However, despite the minor attempts to earn their privacy, it was inevitable for Nott and Malfoy to again be the trending subject of Hogwarts.

December second Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott shared their first public kiss.

The morning found Harry waking up later than he typically did, meaning that the boy left for breakfast accompanied by Dean rather than the familiar company of Hermione and Ron. The boys, not quite as close to each other as to their roommates, were content to chatter idly about unfair school assignments and their similar dislike for History of Magic, which stemmed mainly because of the confusing events and lack of political explanation that made muggleborn/muggle-raised students lost so much more often than halfblood or pureblood students. Despite the conversations, it didn't take too long for Harry and Dean to notice that the closer they came to the Great Hall, the more often they encountered clustered groups of students blocking the path. A shared look of confusion was exchanged before working to weave through the bothersome students.

Entering the Great Hall was slightly less crowded seeing as everybody sat instead of milling about. Harry settled next to Ron at the Gryffindor table, and Dean did the same a bit farther and next to Seamus. "Morning, 'Mione," Harry greeted his female companion. She smiled at him and offered a saved plate of sausages before returning to her discussion with Neville and Luna. Harry ate two and then turned to try and engage Ron in conversation about the weekend match that was so near.

Unfortunately, Ron was unresponsive and pale.

"Ron, are you okay?" Harry asked of his friend. "I think you should visit Pomfrey, you look a bit spooked. Seen a six foot spider around lately?"

"Leave him alone, Harry, man's got some things to think about," Seamus said from where he sat on the other side of the redhead. In response to Harry's questioning look, the Irish boy allowed himself to elaborate. "This morning Malfoy walked in with Zabini and that great oaf that tripped Anthony in Herbology last week, is it Crabbe? Anyway, they sit down, and it's not time for breakfast to be served yet. We're playing cards over here, you know, just shooting the piss." The boy's excitement was freely evident on his face. Seamus looked as he always did when he received any good information. "About two minutes before it's time for the meal, so it's all of us 'cept for you and Dean, and Nott walks in looking angrier than I ever seen the bloke look. Looked about ready to throw a punch or two! But what he does is practically stomp to the Slytherin table and grab Malfoy by the shoulder, jerk him around, and now Malfoy's looking like he's about to bite the arm off, but what happens is that Nott bends down and-"

"He kissed him!" Ron suddenly blurted, looking horrified by the words that left his mouth. "Nott snatch Malfoy by the arm to _kiss_ him, Harry! Kiss _Malfoy_! And if kissing ferret face wasn't bad enough, the little blond poof budged over only enough room for Nott to squeeze between him and Zabini so that the bloke was practically on his lap!" The redhead's shouting brought many looks from the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors like, some shocked at his words and others simply interested. If anybody hadn't been looking at the Slytherin table, they turned their heads to look now.

"-but he still looked pretty angry!" Seamus interrupted, eyes gleaming. "And look! Look!"

Harry's stomach was already unsettled, he wasn't sure that it was wise to look. The brunet couldn't imagine Nott and Malfoy being affectionate in public; it was bad enough just to see them go at it in private. And he felt strangely about the two being open with each other. Were they going steady now? Such an open declaration of infatuation surely meant something when for the past few weeks the two had been going only so far as to link arms. But the fact that they had been angry at each other surely was meant to mean that they weren't going strong? It sounded better to Harry to think that they had problems.

Despite his mixture of feelings, Harry turned around to look at the hot sight for the school. Malfoy was sat next to Crabbe and eating his breakfast with his right hand. Nott was between Malfoy and Zabini, just as Seamus had said, and the rabbity boy ate with his left hand. Between them, sat so clearly on the table, were two linked hands.

* * *

There was no reason for anybody to be interested in the romantic lives of Nott and Malfoy, Harry included.

But the boy still found himself watching as Malfoy kissed Nott's jaw before leaving the boy in front of Ancient Runes, a class that was completely out of the way from Malfoy's Xylomancy class.

He watched as Nott hexed a fifth year boy for pushing Malfoy under the jinxed mistletoe with a giggling fifth year girl.

He watched as Nott gripped the broomstick tightly during a Quidditch game in which he was made reserve chaser because of the original chaser being too ill, though Nott loathed flying and seemed miserable every moment his sharp coordination wasn't occupied pulling Slytherin in the lead.

He watched as three hours into the game, Malfoy abandoned hot pursuit of the sighted snitch and instead dove to catch Nott, who had been struck off his broom by a harsh blow from a bludger.

He even watched as, during the party the next night, Nott chased after the furious form of Malfoy when the blond stormed out into the dungeons.

By the time it was nearly Christmas holidays, Harry was glad that the two purebloods would be sent home and his eyes given a break.

* * *

"Are you sure that you don't want to come home with us, Harry?" Ron asked his friend for the third time that hour. It was the day before vacation. "You know that Mum's happy to have you, and George and Fred like your company enough. There's always room for you, Harry!" Understanding that his best friend was simply fretting about him being lonely, Harry sucked up his patience and tried to explain again his decision to stay.

"It's okay, Ron, I just want some quiet for a bit. No offense, but your house can be pretty loud. I think I'll just practice my Quidditch and maybe see if McGonagall will let me visit you guys on Christmas." The two boys smiled at each other before Ron agreed that his house was loud and probably not suitable for private time.

Hermione sat down with them just as the mail was coming in. The students quickly guarded their plates of food, and Ron shoveled more bacon onto his plate before the birds could fly away with it all. Harry scratched Hedwig under her soft chin before taking the letter from Snuffles, and he pocketed it to read later. Ron seemed pleased to receive correspondence from his family, and he fed his owl a generous slice of his hoarded meat. Hermione picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet.

"What are you doing for the holidays, 'Mione?" Harry asked his friend.

"My parents and I are visiting New York for a week. There's a theatre they've been meaning to take me to, but obviously we couldn't go for my birthday." The pretty girl's face broke into a smile. "I'll be sure to pick you up a souvenir, and I'll send your gift early rather than late." Harry just laughed and patted her shoulder gently.

"Sounds like a lot of fun."

Before Harry could ask what play they would be seeing, a grand hush fell over the hall and he looked up to see what the problem was. The answer was clearly evident as a bold, proud seeming eagle owl soared into the Grand Hall and deposited a steaming red letter on the Slytherin table. It was unclear if the letter was for Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson, or Greengrass; the four Slytherins all looked at each other with stoic expressions. The letter came to life immediately, and it faced Malfoy and Nott.

"Theodore," drawled the heavy voice of an elderly man, causing Nott's face to lose color until he was death white. "I _will not _allow for you to shame our family in such a mannerism as I've been hearing. Any relations you share, especially including the fond ones for a mister Malfoy heir, _will_ be continued in a more refined and appropriate courting. You will be visiting me for Christmas so that we may discuss this matter further. Enjoy your school vacation at school." The envelope set itself on fire. Nott, regaining his color back along with in a sharp blush of humiliation, snatched up Malfoy's hand and squeezed in plain view of the hall's occupants.

Malfoy glared at those whose eyes seemed stuck on the two, though his high cheeks were pink to express his own embarrassment. "What?" the blond snapped at the Hufflepuffs, whose table today sat between Slytherin and Gryffindor. "Do I look especially handsome today, or is Daphne's back that attractive?" Malfoy stood up from the table with as much dignity as he could muster, picking up the package he had received and striding from the Great Hall without having completed his breakfast. Almost as a whole, the mugging sixth year Slytherins stood up to follow after the male.

Harry felt angry on behalf of his rival. It was nobody's business who he was courting, and it certainly wasn't anybody's place to cast such judgement on him when it hadn't even been him to receive the Howler. He had glared at Nott for touching Malfoy so soon after the shock of red letter; did he not see that the blond was embarrassed enough from having been shamed by the brunet's father?

"Things sure are getting rocky in that paradise," Dean commented to his best friend. Harry felt a bit of odd satisfaction at the thought, but upon realizing it he felt horrible for doing so. Malfoy may have been a bit of an arse, but he didn't deserve to be miserable his entire love life. Everybody deserved somebody to love, even rotten Malfoy heirs.

* * *

"Potter. Please pass the peas."

Never before had Harry regretted a decision as much as he did now. Staying at Hogwarts for break was supposed to be stress-relieving and enjoyable; however, Harry hadn't originally been aware that Malfoy was staying at Hogwarts for the vacation this year. Nott was staying as well, but the brunet wasn't at supper with them for some reason or another. Malfoy hadn't offered, and Harry wasn't in the position to ask. In all honesty, he was tempted to just because Malfoy seemed so utterly bored at the table all of the students sat at.

Luna Lovegood was there, erratic ideas and all. Terry Boot was also present because his family had gone out of the country. Anthony Goldstein was trying to convince Terry to engage in a popper with him. Harper, a boy in the year below theirs, was the only other Slytherin at the table other than a quiet second year boy who read a book while he ate his meal. There were younger years on their own side of the round table, chatting away despite the mix of scarf colors. Harry had chatted with Luna for most of the meal until Malfoy made his request for peas.

"Erm. Sure thing, Malfoy. Potatoes?" He'd been craving the starches since the meal first began, though the dish had been set between Harper and Malfoy and unappetizing when compared to the hazard of reaching for it.

Malfoy swapped his easily reached dish for Harry's, though then the blond and Harper were discussing something about French and English relations concerning the market of something or another. It was difficult to hear over Luna's voice rambling about her father's adventures for the holidays. It was also difficult to hear when Harry's mind was occupied with other thoughts.

"So, where's Nott at?" the Gryffindor asked his Slytherin companions once a stall in all conversation occurred minutes later.

Malfoy arched one elegant eyebrow as he turned to face Harry. The blond's face had lost some of it's rare fat from youth, Harry realized, and Malfoy began to look eerily enough like an adult. It was terrifying to think that they all were nearly adults.

"Nott is having supper in his room," Harper answered after a moment, breaking Harry's attention way from Malfoy's grey eyes. The fifth year's shiny brown hair was visibly displeasing when compared to the platinum blond of his elder classmate's. But his tanner skin tone contrasted well enough, a hue of olive interrupting the porcelain of Malfoy's flesh beside it. "Where are your cronies?"

Harry had to look away from Malfoy again to look at Harper. "My _friends _are with their families." He shot an apologetic look toward Luna, but the girl was saying something to Malfoy that seemed to startle the teenager with the way his eyes were growing wider every second. "And what's Nott doing eating in his room? Sick or something?"

Malfoy's eyes glanced in their direction, settling on Harry. "Or something," he replied with a small sneer of contempt. "I've finished my meal, Harper. Will you be joining me? Or you, Willock?" The second year boy rose up to join Malfoy, and they left the Great Hall's small amount of diners. Harper didn't seem out of his comfort as he dug into the dessert that had just been summoned.

But Harry just thought about Malfoy's green jumper being a bit too long and tight on him.

* * *

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter." Draco Malfoy always had to make his presence known, even when it wasn't wanted.

Harry raised his head up and watched as the sneering blond hesitated for a few moments before entering the room and closing the door behind him. Malfoy wore a long sleeved button up blouse, and it surprised the brunet by being such a rich red color. His trousers were the color of his eyes. Harry laid his head back where it had originally rested before he was intruded upon. "Likewise, Malfoy. Where's your little boyfriend gone off to?"

There was a hiccup in response, and then Malfoy scoffed. He sat across from Harry, near the window that the Astronomy Tower offered. "Where's yours, surrounded by a sea of like-headed moles? But I guess he's the most fit of the batch.. 'cept for the prefect one. He looked fun to corrupt." Malfoy's rambling didn't make a lot of sense. Harry was faced with an overwhelming realization.

"Malfoy, are you drunk?"

Hiccup. "Of course. Not. No, of course not. No."

Trust his luck to be stuck in the Astronomy Tower with a tipsy Malfoy.

"Where did you acquire alcohol? I don't think mummy includes any of that in her packages."

Malfoy's eyes squinted at Harry. "Bought it. D'you want some?" From the blond's pocket came a little bottle, and he produced his wand likely for enlarging it. However, Harry was having none of that. Thoughts of a bleeding Malfoy sobbing over his stained attire while sitting amidst glass shards encouraged the brunet to roll to his knees and crawl closer to Malfoy, snatching the wand away once he could reach it.

"You can't do magic while you're pissed! Here, let me do it." Harry tapped his wand against the small bottle, but it surprised him to see the bottle increase in size without him even uttering a spell. Malfoy was glaring at him.

"It's so I don't _have _to do magic, Scarhead. Give me my wand."

He felt foolish as he returned the wand to those long ivory fingers. Harry took a moment to observe the bottle in his hands, not at all surprised to see that it was from the Malfoy family. Malfoy was probably lying to him, then, when he said he bought it. Blond git probably just swiped it from his father, or maybe he took it from one of the production plants or however else wizards did business. Harry wondered how that was.

"I don't know if I like this brand," Harry finally commented, tossing the bottle from hand to hand and ignoring Malfoy's scoff. "But I'll try it. Any glasses?"

Malfoy's pointed glare made Harry conjure some up himself, though the inebriated blond was the one who opened the bottle and poured it's contents into the two cups. He picked up both glasses and then clinked them together, offering Harry one while he drank the other.

_Couldn't even wait to have a toast with me?_ Harry thought in bemusement, taking up the offered glass. The Gryffindor observed it, liquid lavender so dark it was nearly black in the sparse light of the night. Steeling his mind against the absurdity of the situation -**_Drinking with Malfoy_**? asked his inner Ron- , Harry thrust his head back and knocked down the drink just as he saw Malfoy do on more than one occasion during the fifth to seventh year parties. The liquid was unexpectedly cool and soothing to the throat; upon putting his glass down, Harry gagged at the harsh burn that the alcohol left behind in his throat. At least he now knew why Malfoy sounded a bit husky.

Malfoy, the cheeky git, snickered at Harry.

* * *

"Are you gay?" Harry asked some indiscernible amount of time later. It must have been beyond curfew by now. The moon's light was hidden from his immediate view, so it had to have been after eleven at night. And he didn't know how or why it happened, but Harry was laying down beside the tipsy Malfoy, the boy who had supplied already two bottles of his stolen drink and likely carried another.

"Noo. I'm laying on the cold ground next to a total git and Theo's a git and everybody's a git an' I'm so cold." Malfoy shuddered as though to emphasize his point, the dramatic ponce. "Are you gay?"

Harry's face scrunched up. He hated how muggle talk was so different from wizard talk.

"I mean, are you.. Do you only like blokes?" He reached for the last of their second bottle, intending to finish it off. Malfoy didn't stop him, seeming to mull over the question.

"No," the blond finally replied. "I like skirts, too." He reached for the bottle that Harry held, but it was empty. The blond's face wrinkled up with annoyance as he produced another bottle. "Prat."

Harry was busy thinking. "Why're you here? You have a boyfriend," the brunet murmured, his words a bit too sluggish for his own tastes. He didn't have a history with drinking beyond some small firewhiskey, and Malfoy carried some damned good stuff with him. Harry wondered why there was so much, though, if the blond had planned to drink alone.

"No'.. Not my boyfriend," Malfoy said with difficulty. "Prat, he's a prat. I don' flirt with no one."

Harry nodded a few more times than he had to. Maybe Nott had jealousy issues, even if he didn't seem to fit that sort of bill. Then again, Malfoy could be a biased little prick, so Harry didn't entirely expect to hear the truth anyway. He began to trace something soft next to him, humming a jazzy little tune he had heard earlier during the Christmas supper.

"Why ain't you at.. with your mum and dad?" Harry inquired next.

Malfoy moved his arm from where Harry stroked it. "Wanted to stay. Wan.. Wan' some time for me." The blond looked so tired, and Harry wondered how he didn't notice this fact beforehand. Maybe it was the alcohol that made him see a bit more clearly. Malfoy's blond hair was messy and could have used a shampoo, but it was still so light. His pale skin was grey with unhealth. And his lips were chapped. Harry wondered why he was looking at Malfoy's lips.

"Malfoy?"

"Wha'?"

"How'd you know you were bent?"

"'m not. I like skirt. And I like fit bloke, too." Malfoy sounded so far away, but he was spread out next to Harry. The brunet squinted at his sleepy companion.

"How'd you know?" he pressed, bumping Malfoy with his hip and accidentally causing the blond to roll on his side away.

"Don' know!" the blond complained. "Fat'ers friend.. I was eight, an' he taught me French." Malfoy was interrupted by the need to burp. He rolled onto his back again. "Had blue eyes.. Blue eyes and blue glasses. Brown hair. I liked his face.. He wa' good looking and nice and he kissed me when I was almost ten. I liked it, and blokes, but not really 'im. Fa'er made 'im disappear one day."

Harry felt upset with this development, thinking of a little Malfoy being taken advantage of by a man so much older as to of been his father's friend. The brunet could only wonder what happened to the man, but it wasn't a pressing matter. What _was_ a pressing matter was Malfoy's side now clear against his, the pale flesh as cold as the blond was complaining about earlier. How sensitive.

"Bastard, kissin' you like that." Harry still didn't know why he was so angry. Malfoy's body shifted in a shrug against his.

"Didn' tell no one. Don't."

Harry yawned against Malfoy's arm, completely bypassing his own by accident. "Mm. D'you know what happened to 'im?"

Malfoy shook his head, pointy chin brushing Harry's hair. "No. Just gone. Theo, Pansy, Greg.. They 'ad him, too. But he was gone. Like Father's other friend when I was ten. Perverts."

The blond was practically sleeping already. Harry wanted to move, but he was the only thing keeping Malfoy warm, and the blond's shirt felt so nice and soft and perfect for a face pillow. Harry thought about another man poking the young Malfoy. As much as he despised Lucius, Harry couldn't help but think about how he had to have cared about his son to protect him however he did.

Harry smelt hot honey and alcohol. His face pressed harder against the warm firm curve it met, and he inhaled. Malfoy might have liked to smell it, too, but Harry was sure that the blond was asleep already. He didn't get to smell good things when he was asleep.

The curve moved away from him, and Harry looked up to wonder where it was going. He saw Malfoy's face instead. He leaned in and saw too much of Malfoy's face, but he could now taste the hot honey and alcohol instead of just smelling it.

He didn't process the loud sound of footsteps, but he did process Malfoy shoving him away.

"Stop it, Theo," the blond grumped, sounding like he was under water.

Harry accepted his new identification as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: Oh no, not an unexpected kiss! The horror! And what are these unprocessed loud footsteps? Oh noo!**

**Ideas? Suggestions? Criticism? Outrage? Reviews are appreciated no matter what they contain.**


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